July 16, 2014
Ok now I’ll continue the story about when I first brought Bogart home. When I pulled up in front of the house he was asleep so I had to wake him. He awoke instantly, hopped out of the car, and ran to the front door. It’s a Victorian house which was altered to function as a two family. Access to either the upstairs or downstairs areas requires keys. There’s a way to get upstairs from the front and one from the back, where there’s a balcony with outside stairs.
You use a key for the front door to get in the entryway. Then you can either use the door to the downstairs apartment, where Astrid lives, or you can go up the stairs to get in my apartment. Astrid doesn’t bother locking the front door except when she leaves the house and at night.
I locked it so I could show Bogart the keys, since there was a copy for him. The two keys, the one for the front door and the one for our actual apartment, look completely different. I was trying to get him to recognize which key opened which door. When he saw the first key, the shape reminded him of a clover, which reminded him of the clubs in a deck of cards, and he went off on card games he likes and some he hates, and how we should have a poker night like men do. When we got upstairs, he took a while to figure out which key opened that door, even though he just used the other key downstairs.
When I sensed that I finally had the greatest amount of his brain he was able to offer to any one given situation, I asked him why it was so difficult for him to figure out something so simple, because I believe he’s intelligent, though I didn’t tell him he often comes across as clueless. He said, “cos I always go’ a billion foughts in me ‘ead.” I said that I thought the medication was helping with that. He responded, “yeah, it used to be five billion.” Then he laughed BUWAHAHAHAHAAAA, got serious again and said, “seriously.” Then he added, “also there were the paypo,” (which is my best spelling of how he pronounces ‘people’ but that’s confusing, so I’ll just spell it normally).
I asked, “What people?”
He spoke more slowly than I ever heard him speak, with huge pauses, and his eyes darted around, “The people…they’s ‘o… ….I go’ ….confused by. …I ‘ad …foughts…foughts an’ …a lo’ o’ …ideas an’ …some people …gave ’em to me. …An’ there …were …fings no’a be …sure of… …all dodgy, ….’ard to get sor’ed. …They …said …fings… …an’ did …fings… …it was …a bi’ too much, didn’t know me arse from me elbow, all cos’a the people.”
I think he was talking about the paranoia, delusions, and hallucinations. It kinda creeped me out though. There were times in the institution when he made no sense, it just sounded like he was reciting a string of words and ideas that had no connection whatsoever, all scattered and indecipherable thoughts. His accent didn’t help, so most of the time I tuned him out, just let him ramble on and I’d just nod and say “yeah.” I’d never want to have Bogart’s mind. It seems like a fucking horrifying place to exist in. He’s tortured by it.
…Anyway, I showed him our apartment and he ran around, again I can only think to compare him to a dog, like a yellow lab, that’s what he reminds me of, running around with his tail wagging and his tongue hanging out. When I showed him his room he jumped on the bed and started to undo his pants to jerk off. I forgot about how openly he does that and would even try to have conversations with me at the institution while he was jerking off. I told him to wait so he could meet his new roomies and our landlady, and Gary Oldman (II) who was outside with them.
We went down the outside stairs and went to Astrid’s patio where they were all hanging out. Astrid was inside at the time. He saw Pete first and didn’t remember him from when Pete came to visit me at the institution. Pete stood to shake his hand, but Bogart grabbed him and hugged him, then laughed and called him a fucking twat, pushing him so hard he stumbled over backwards, tripping over his chair and landing on his ass. I was like, “yeah, Bogart, Pete’s not into that, so uh…yeah he wouldn’t be too happy about a punch in the face as a greeting.”
Neither am I, but I can take it.
Astrid saw him push Pete over from inside and she came out kind of laughing, after assessing Pete was ok, and put her hand out, “Hi Bogart, I’m Astrid.” I could see he was about to grab her, wrap his arms around her waist to pull her up to him. So I put my hand to his chest to prevent that.
I said, “Astrid has back problems, you have to be gentle with her or you could cause permanent damage.”
He seemed baffled about how to respond, but she put her hand back out, he shook it, and said, “you go’ nice tits.”
I cringed. “Yeah, Bogart, she’s also our landlady so you shouldn’t talk to her like that. You shouldn’t talk to any woman like that.”
I don’t know if he heard me because he was too busy staring at her tits. Astrid had a smirk like she was amused, but said, “hey, eyes up here buddy,” gesturing to her face. He glanced up but looked back down.
I said, “Ok now this is Cola.” He turned and Cola stood. Bogart started laughing, looked at me and was like, “‘at’s a bloke in a dress.”
Cola graciously explained, “I identify with women, and feel like a woman inside, and express that on the outside, though I am physically a man.”
“Wot…? Lift up your skirt, mate.”
I said, “Bogart, no–”
But Cola interrupted, “No it’s ok, let’s get it all cleared up right away, if no one minds.” And she lifted up her skirt.
“You go’ on ladies’ knickers too,” then he reached out to grope her, which I was surprised she allowed. And while he had his hand on her crotch, he said, “blimey, ‘e’s go’ ‘imself some tackle, an’ it gets stiff too.”
Cola pushed his hand away and fixed her skirt. “Yes, I have perfectly functioning male genitalia. And of course I’m going to get erect when a man feels me up.”
Bogart backed up, then as if he forgot he was repulsed for a second, he stepped forward and put his hands on Cola’s tits, “these real then?”
“No, they’re not.”
Bogart stepped back, speculated her for a minute, then laughed and said, “‘at’s mental, you’re a nutter.”
I attempted to say something, but Cola stopped me and was like, “It’s ok, he’ll get used to the idea, he’ll be all right. Believe me, I’ve had worse reactions.”
And I can imagine that she has.
And before I go, I’ll add that he also met Gary Oldman (II), and he was amazingly gentle with her, which is a relief. Otherwise, I could go on and on and fucking on. There’s so much to say. So much more. There’s so much fucking more I could write about. But even my mind needs a break.
My theme song is “Around My Head” by Cage The Elephant, because it doesn’t make sense. But it can.
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